Wingman
by AriadneF
Summary: When Danny seems to have lost confidence in his game, Steve shows him what friends are for.


_So... took a break from the other story to try my hand at a little fluffiness! Hope you like! - Ari_

* * *

"Compliments of the lovely lady over there."

The bartender set the beer between them. He rested an elbow on the counter and pointed with the other hand out towards the crowd. Danny and Steve turned to look.

Before them, the beach was packed with bodies, mostly dancing to the music spun by the deejay at the platform opposite them. Over a hundred friends and family, they had estimated, wondering if all of them were even on the guest list. In the middle of the dancers, Kono's surfing buddies lifted her above their shoulders, tossing her repeatedly into the air counting off the years. The late sunset bathed all in a warm reddish glow.

Perched on a bar stool, next to the throng of swaying hips and swinging arms, was a very lovely lady indeed. Shiny yellow and black fabric draped over impossibly long golden limbs. The young woman waggled her fingers sparkling with jewels and nibbled on her lower lip for good measure.

Danny followed her intense gaze, the smoky eyes cutting through the glow of tiki lights over the sand to rest upon his partner's lean form. Between them sat the single bottle of beer, condensation shimmering in the outdoor air.

"You know, I feel like I've seen this before," Danny muttered, barely audible over the music, as he turned his back to the party and hunched over the bar.

"Something wrong, Danno?" Steve asked, raising the bottle to his benefactor.

"Beautiful women abound and I'm standing here with the boy from Ipanema. I don't know why I even bother leaving the house."

"You want me to go?" Steve chuckled.

"Go where? You're the Pied Piper of the female population. This place'd empty out fast." Danny said and immediately regretted. He followed lamely, "Kono would kick your ass for ruining her party."

Steve smiled indulgently at him. Danny saw his face and shook his head to himself.

"I can't tell if my chances are better right here next to you or on a different island altogether," he continued, though not meaning for it to come out in as bitter a tone as it did.

Steve considered him with a serious expression, bottle rolling back and forth between his fingers, and Danny was beginning to feel uncomfortable under that steady gaze. Finally, Steve glanced at something above his head, then turned and leaned over the bar, calling to the bartender. A few seconds later, the man returned with a couple more beers and a shot glass on the counter.

Danny watched, brows perking. "Thirsty much?"

Steve picked up the shot glass and handed it to him.

"Here. Take this."

Danny frowned. "Are you trying to get me drunk? I'm not going home with you tonight, McGarrett."

Steve set it on the bar and pushed it closer to Danny's hand.

"Trust me. Just drink it."

Danny peered up at those steely eyes that watched him, sparkling with mischief. Without breaking his gaze, he grabbed the glass of amber liquid.

"You better be paying for these."

Danny hissed as the alcohol slid down this throat like stream of liquid fire.

Suddenly, Steve's hands were on his neck.

"Whoa whoaaa," he said, blinking furiously. "I'm not that kind of girl, Steve."

Steve said nothing, fiddling with the knot of Danny's tie. He pulled the strip of navy colored silk off with a flourish.

"Look man, it's going to take a lot more than one drink for that," Danny protested, though he remained still, one hand gripping the counter as the other floated in the air between them, a useless stop sign.

Steve's fingers deftly worked through the top two buttons of his shirt. He tugged at the collar, loosening it, giving him the effect of the shirt hanging haphazardly on his broad frame. Steve leaned back briefly to admire his handiwork. He reached out to touch the top of Danny head.

"Not the hair!"

"Yes."

"No!"

"Danny, yes. You look like a—"

"I dare you finish that sentence," Danny glared at him.

Steve smirked.

"I don't know what part of the galaxy you're originally from. But here on planet earth, it is a universal rule that one does not touch another man's hair. Okay? You understand me?" Danny rolled his shoulders back, pulling at the edges of his shirt to gain some measure of control back.

"I just think you need to let loose for a while."

"No. Touch. Hair." Danny raised a hand in warning till he was sure his partner wasn't going to try it again. He angled himself towards the bar, leaning an arm on the cold surface. He gave the bartender a dirty look when the man raised his eyebrows at him. Steve shrugged and took another sip of his drink. Danny quickly threaded his fingers through his hair, unknowingly transforming the slick blond shell into soft peaks.

Steve turned back, tilting his head in amusement. He picked up the beer bottles and thrust both into Danny's hands. He rested his palms on Danny's shoulders and turned him around towards the rest of the party. Clapping him on the back, he leaned over Danny's ear.

"Go get 'em, tiger."

Steve nudged him forward a few feet into the fray. Danny's feet pedaled over the sand in a flurry. Then the pushing stopped.

"Hey man, I don't need pointers from—"

Danny spun around, bottles swinging dangerously in the air, but Steve was nowhere in sight. _Damn Navy stealth techniques._ He exhaled loudly.

"Hello. Is one of those for me?"

He swiveled once again in the direction of the voice. A dark-haired woman with deep eyes and beautiful smile sat right before him, looking up expectantly. He put on his most charming smile and introduced himself, handing her the beer. And as Danny slid into the seat next to her, he caught Steve striding across his sight through the crowd, grinning right back at him.


End file.
